


All Bark and No Bite, Darling

by AM505



Series: Abandon You (I Wish I Could) [3]
Category: Misfits (TV 2009)
Genre: Alisha doesn't like Nathan talking to Simon, Attempted Murder, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Biting, Blood Kink, Bodyguard Simon Bellamy, Boys Kissing, Canon-Typical Violence, Dark, Dressing up in suits, Drink Spiking, Explicit Language, Hurt/Comfort, Jealous Simon, M/M, Murder Kink, Nathan Young Needs A Hug, Non-Consensual Murder, Non-Consensual Touching, Prostitution, Protective Simon Bellamy, Simon finds Nathan very pretty, Simon is boarderline stalking Nathan, Voyeurism, attempted strangulation, jealous nathan, throat slashing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:47:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27509317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AM505/pseuds/AM505
Summary: Dixon eyed him up and down, looking like Nathan had served himself on a big platter for him to dig into. He was staring at his chest, his neck, his legs that were resting confidently on top of the desk. Yeah, Nathan loved showing up here looking like a snack. He loved seeing the prick’s frustration, because there was no way he was getting any.“See, Dix,” he said, smirking cruelly, “I’m not here because I care for your shitty lessons. I’m here for the money you stole from me when I was dead. I want it back.”In which Nathan and Simon team up as partners in crime and pay a little visit to resolve unfinished business.
Relationships: Simon Bellamy/Nathan Young
Series: Abandon You (I Wish I Could) [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1993498
Comments: 6
Kudos: 49





	1. You're Barry Now

**Author's Note:**

> Here we go, Nathan and Simon taking care of business together - and wearing SUITS!
> 
> Please beware the tags as there might be trigger warnings to come. But for now, feel free to enjoy our boys slowly partnering up lol

They’d managed to schedule a meeting with Nathan’s client at eleven o’clock the following Monday. The man’s name was Roman Dixon. Simon had never phoned an insurance company before and had felt apprehensive about requesting a meeting in person. He’d done all the talking over the phone, out of fear that the call would get transferred to this Dixon arsehole directly. He would have recognised Nathan’s annoying, Irish twang and they would have been caught immediately. Simon had spoken to one of the secretaries regarding the insurance policy he was pretending to want to buy from Mr Dixon. She had of course asked him a series of questions, but luckily he’d done his homework which meant he was able to cover everything from medical conditions to mortgage protection.

He wasn’t calling as Simon Bellamy, of course. He’d introduced himself as Mr Barry Bradley, twenty-eight years old, property owner, carpenter, testicular cancer survivor. All supplied by Nathan who kept reminding Simon to mention his swollen ball-sack while he was on the phone.

“You do realise that when you show up for the meeting, you’ll be Barry Bradley, not me.”

Nathan had not realised that until Simon spelled it out for him.

Monday morning came, and they were still trying to work out how to bunk off for a few of hours without getting a dressing-down from the probation worker. Simon suspected Nathan had tried to persuade Kelly to cover for them. After all, she wasn’t daft. She knew something was up. She knew one of Nathan’s so-called business meetings must have gone awry. Whether it was through reading his mind or through simply knowing Nathan, she’d seen his predicament coming and had already decided to spare herself the trouble. What she was less certain about, Simon guessed, was _his_ involvement. He wondered if he owed her an explanation. He wondered if Nathan had told her something already, even though he’d promised not to reveal what had happened that night. 

The night Simon had saved him by killing him.

He continued to feel small and shameful whenever he recalled the taste of Nathan’s blood. It was something he couldn’t afford to think about when he was around Kelly, of course. Even looking at her, speaking to her, was beginning to prove difficult for him. He was too afraid that she knew more than she let on, or at least more than Nathan did. He worried that she saw and suspected enough to call him out and hold her doubts against him.

Either way, with Kelly refusing to take part, and with Simon wanting to keep his head down, they had to go with plan B instead. 

**Improv.**

They were picking litter that morning when Nathan suddenly jumped up and shouted:

“Ow! Oh my god! I’ve pricked myself! Quick! I’m going into septic shock!”

Even Simon assumed he was serious for a second. He was holding up a used needle for the probation worker, Shaun, to see, pretending to have pulled it out of his finger. He must have found it behind one of the bushes. It wouldn’t be the first time a couple of London junkies had used the community premises to get their fix.

Kelly looked concerned for a moment. Then, like Simon, she realised what he was doing. Curtis merely rolled his eyes and turned his back on him, though he kept his mouth shut.

“Let me see that,” Shaun sighed, taking a slow sip of his coffee before he could be bothered to walk over. “It’s barely bleeding.”

“That’s not how sepsis works!” Cried Nathan. “You don’t even have to bleed to be dying, you know!”

Shaun gave him a disinterested look before giving his verdict.

“You seem fine to me.”

“Fine? You can’t tell - the poison is _inside_ me! I can feel it in my veins. The pain - it’s spreading oh so fast!”

“Why are you not wearing your gloves?” Shaun interrogated drily. “Shit like this wouldn’t have happened if you wore your gloves.”

“Oh, that’s great!” Nathan uttered dramatically. “Now you’re _blaming_ me. You think I wanted to make myself septic?”

“I dunno,” Shaun dead-panned. “Did you?” 

Simon quickly decided to step in before Nathan took it too far.

“I can take him to the A&E to get it checked,” he offered casually, trying to not sound fussed either way. “I mean, in case he really might be sick.” 

Nathan wrapped his other hand carefully around the ‘injured’ finger, as if trying to shield the non-existent wound.

“I can feel my whole arm throbbing,” he complained, exaggerating as he pretended to stagger. “But please, don’t let the fact that they might have to amputate rush you into making a decision…”

Simon wished he would shut up. He was going to ruin everything if he didn’t drop the attitude. Shaun looked between the two of them, but it was impossible to tell what he was thinking. Then, another deep sigh:

“I don’t give a shit what you do. Just be back after lunch.”

Nathan was about to open his big, stupid mouth again when Simon gripped his arm and dragged him along, urging him to go before Shaun changed his mind.

“Oh my god. You actually _are_ bleeding,” he noted as he glanced down at Nathan’s hand by coincidence. It wasn’t much, just a couple of droplets smeared across his index finger, but still. He’d assumed he faked it. “Don’t tell me you actually pricked yourself on the needle.”

“Of course not,” Nathan snorted, “I used those thorny hedges by the bins. Jesus, how stupid do you think I am? You’re worse than Curtis!” 

*

He went along with Nathan’s idea to wear a suit and tie underneath the orange jumpsuits. That way, they were able to quickly discard their ugly coverings before catching the bus into town. They’d managed to find a route taking them pretty much straight to the office building. Now, waiting at the bus stop, Nathan glanced at Simon’s outfit that was all beige paired with a light-blue shirt and brown shoes. It was the only suit he hadn’t grown out of. His mum had bought it for him for Auntie Harriet’s wedding two years ago.

“What did you dress up for, Barry? You’ll be invisible. They won’t even see you.”

_‘Thanks, Nathan, you look nice, too,’_ Simon thought to himself moodily.

Actually, Nathan looked better than just nice. He looked amazing in his navy blue suit, burgundy tie and black leather shoes. He looked like a model. He looked like he was being paid to look this… stunning. _(Lovely. Handsome. Tall)._

Simon shrugged:

“I just thought best to be prepared for anything. After all, I’d like to blend in if I have to.”

“Blend in?” Nathan retorted mockingly. “Who wears beige to a business meeting?”

The bus was busy and they ended up squeezing closely together with a bunch of people in the aisle section, Simon trapped next to an old man who was out-of-his-mind-drunk and kept bumping into him what felt like every five seconds. Nathan was fortunate enough to only be crowded by sober people, mainly two girls who were roughly their age, or perhaps a few years older. One of them - a beautiful blonde wearing a long, faux-fur coat - couldn’t take her eyes off him and seemed to try and get his attention by pretending to lose her footing. Granted, she was wearing high heels, but it was the way she purposefully tried to grasp at Nathan’s arm, or shoulder, or chest, that convinced Simon she was smitten. Whenever she succeeded in touching him, she’d turn to her friend, giggling. 

He thought he caught Nathan flinching the first time. It was only brief, and Simon hadn’t had a clear view of where she’d actually put her hand. He wasn’t used to seeing Nathan tense, nothing ever made him uncomfortable, and for that reason, he wasn’t entirely sure what to make of his reaction. Because only a moment later, Nathan forced a smile and winked at her, turning on his charm like he welcomed her to squeeze him a little harder.

Until then, Simon had not fully considered the consequences of Nathan’s meet-ups with clients. He was so good at faking it, but deep down, Simon knew most of his clients were probably both rough and handsy with him. And Nathan, apparently, had gotten quite good at suppressing his objections like a true professional.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I'm feeling clumsy today," teased the girl as she flicked back her hair and fell into Nathan all over again. "I'm so lucky to have a cute, well-dressed guy to catch me. Are you a business man or something? Do you make a lot of money?"

Nathan shrugged casually as he flashed her a grin. She was playing the game and he was going along with it.

"I've done pretty well for myself, love, can't complain. I wouldn't normally ride the bus to work, but you see, my _Ferrari_ is at the garage. I'm, uh... changing back to summer tyres."

"You drive a Ferrari? Gorgeous guy _and_ you have a gorgeous vehicle. What's the catch? Are you sure you're not too good to be true?"

"How about I give you a ride some time," Nathan replied coolly, raising an eyebrow at her flirtatiously, "and let you see for yourself?"

Simon grimaced, but he should have seen this coming. Nathan was always ready to put his feelings aside and deliver. If only there was an off-button on him somewhere. He heard the girl asking for his business card, but before he managed to catch whatever excuse Nathan came up with on the spot, the drunk man tripped and backed into him again, causing Simon to grunt when his elbow dug into his stomach.

Yeah, so far things were going just great.

*

They were stood outside the tall office building, looking for a safe space that Simon could use to turn invisible. It was a busy street, and he couldn’t exactly use his power once they’d entered the lobby. He was fairly certain there would be cameras capturing them from all angles. In the end, they managed to follow the street a bit further down. There was a short alley that seemed quiet enough. It was between a couple of large glass buildings, looking a lot like law firms.

Nathan grabbed Simon’s arm before he had a chance to do his thing.

“Wait. How will I know you’re with me in there when I can’t see you?”

Simon looked at him as he took a moment to think.

“I promise I’ll be there, I won’t just take off,” he said simply, failing to think of anything better. “I’ll walk behind you the entire time. I don’t know, I can tap your shoulder, for confirmation.” 

Nathan nodded, but seemed reluctant. Perhaps he was nervous at the idea of doing it alone. Even though he had Simon for backup, he’d be doing the talking by himself. Simon doubted he’d rehearsed a speech or had any clue what to say to his ex-client. Nathan never thought long and hard before he spoke. It just came to him, both the clever and the pure idiotic stuff.

“Alright, Barry. Let’s do this thing.”

Simon smirked.

“ _You’re_ Barry now. I suggest you make the effort of remembering your own name.”

His body began to convulse and contort, allowing him to promptly disappear into thin air.

*

“I’m here to see Mr Roman Dixon, please.” Nathan smiled widely as he spoke to the lady in reception, but truthfully, even pronouncing the bellend’s name was making him feel ill. “He’s expecting me.”

“What’s the name?”

“Bradley,” Nathan deepened his voice James Bond-style, and he paused eloquently, “Barry Bradley.”

It wasn’t every day he got the chance to have fun with a fake identity, was it?

“Okay, Mr Bradley, if you take the lift to the fifth floor, someone will show you to his office.”

He caught the lady smiling back at him. Maybe she smiled at everybody, after all, they loved filling receptions with smiley, approachable people. Still. Nathan felt himself unwinding.

“If I can just get you to wear this?”

She handed him a lanyard with an ID card that read _visitor._

“Thanks. Will do.”

He headed over to the lifts, hearing the faintest sound of Simon’s steps trailing after his. Luckily the doors opened, revealing an empty lift, and Nathan took his chance to ask:

“Is it just me, or was she totally checking me out?” 

He jerked slightly when the button for the fifth floor pressed itself. 

“She was probably twice your age.” Simon’s voice sounded just next to him. “I don’t think she was checking you out.”

“Don’t be ageist! Besides, I reckon she was fifteen years my senior, tops!”

“You know, there was that girl your age _actually_ checking you out on the bus.”

“Yeah,” Nathan shrugged. “What’s your point?”

“You didn’t seem to like it at first.”

“Come on, Barry, you know I love flattery.” 

“You didn’t look like you loved it.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It’s okay to not appreciate unwanted attention, Nathan.”

That took him aback. Nathan was ready to hit back at him by means of insult, but it was surprisingly hard to put down someone you couldn’t see.

“I certainly don’t appreciate you right now!” He retorted lamely. The lift arrived at the fifth floor before he could think of something witty. “Just - shush! Exit after me.”

Nathan stepped out of the lift and headed for the doors directing him to the office reception. Before he could press the buzzer, the door was opened and a woman dressed in a dark-grey blazer and skirt suit welcomed him inside. 

“Mr Bradley? Mr Dixon is ready to see you now. I’ll show you to his office.”

“Uh. Great, thanks.” 

Nathan’s stomach grew strangely heavy as he followed the woman and walked past a large row of desks. He thought he saw dozens of heads snapping up from computer screens to chance a look at him. He felt like a twelve-year-old visiting his dad’s workplace for the first time. He probably did look out of place. Confused as a little kid.

_Fuck me if I’ll ever end up in a hellhole like this._

“Here you are.” The woman, (Stephanie, according to her badge), knocked on the door to an office in the far back. It had Dixon’s name written on it. _Mr Big Shot,_ Nathan thought grumpily. What a fucking bellend. He almost startled at the sound of his ex-client’s voice telling them to enter. “Mr Dixon, Mr Barry Bradley is here for your meeting.”

“Thanks, Stephanie, that’s grand.”

_That’s grand?_ Nathan grimaced. _Who the fuck talks like that?_

Stephanie gestured for him to go ahead, and Nathan quickly barged in the office like he owned the goddamn place. No way he was going to show up all humble and meek, like a school boy being sent to see the principle. He locked eyes with the coward who remained sat behind his desk, choosing not to get up and shake his hand, not even for the sake of pretending. Oh yeah. He’d so looked forward to this moment, to seeing him all shocked and embarrassed as he realised he’d been played. Only when Stephanie left and closed the door behind her did Nathan look over his shoulder.

Barry was still with him, wasn’t he? 

He had to be.

It appeared he’d read his mind. Nathan felt a hand lightly touching his shoulder from behind, and it was all the encouragement he needed to force a big grin.

“Dixon!” He let out a cocky chuckle as he went to take a seat, feeling no need to wait around for an invitation. Nathan did not hesitate to lean back in his chair and make himself comfortable by stretching out his legs all over his wanker ex-client’s desk. “So we meet again! Did you miss me, big boy?”

Dixon eyed him steadily, his face revealing next to no astonishment at all. Was he not surprised to see him? Who the hell had taught this fucker to pull off such an annoyingly straight face?

Feeling suddenly irked at the lack of response, Nathan pushed over the man’s pen pot with his shoe.

“Oops.”

The pens dropped to the floor, but Dixon didn’t even flinch.

Rather, he broke into a smile.

“So, _Barry,_ ” he said plainly, studying Nathan’s face with what resembled pleasure. “I was wondering when you might show up. After all, it was only a matter of time.”

“Oh yeah?” Nathan let out a subtle, but sharp laughter. “I’m glad you realise you and I have unfinished business. Means you’re not a complete moron, despite what I thought.” He smiled innocently at the older man. Then he looked around the room casually. There were no windows, and the walls were all bare apart from a shitty painting of what looked like an overweight horse. It was hung above the desk. “Fancy place you’ve got here. You must be really important to the company, I take it? With your big-arse desk, and your gel pens with your name on ‘em, and your lavish… art.”

Nathan gestured towards the possibly pregnant horse above his head.

The man leaned in across the desk, studying him intensely before bursting out laughing.

“You know, the last time someone took that tone with me, I thought I taught them a lesson they wouldn’t soon forget.”

Nathan’s eyes widened comically as he feigned ignorance.

“Oh, you’re talking about me?” He pointed at himself with mock-surprise. “It’s not my fault, man. My brain resets every time I die.”

“Is that so?” 

Dixon eyed him up and down, looking like Nathan had served himself on a big platter for him to dig into. He was staring at his chest, his neck, his legs that were resting confidently on top of the desk. Yeah, Nathan loved showing up here looking like a snack. He loved seeing the prick’s frustration, because there was no way he was getting any. 

“See, Dix,” he said, smirking cruelly, “I’m not here because I care for your shitty lessons. I’m here for the money you stole from me when I was dead. I want it back.”

Dixon grinned as he beheld him, too greedy to take his eyes off him for even a second.

“That’s funny. I assumed you were here because you wanted to apologise for insulting me, especially considering how nicely I’ve treated you.”

“Apologise?” Nathan sneered. “Oh I’m sorry. Did my spine hurt your knife when you stabbed me in the back? Before you say anything, yes I know, you actually stabbed me in the chest, you dick, but that’s not how the expression goes.”

Dixon finally moved his fat arse out of his chair and rose to his feet. 

“I admit, I was probably beside myself with anger when I left. I may have… forgotten… to tidy up after myself.”

“Tidy up after yourself? How about you forgot to pull the fucking knife out?” Nathan glared at him resentfully. “That eight-hundred quid was per death, you bastard. The price has just doubled!” 

The man began to walk across the floor, slowly. Nathan remained perfectly still, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of cowering. He watched him stupidly as Dixon turned to the glass wall facing the hallway and closed the blinds.

“If you’re really here for my money, love, the least you can do is ask for it nicely. Put a little effort into it. Make it worth my while.” He moved to the door next. Nathan flinched slightly as he heard it locking. “Let’s face it, shall we? We were both in the wrong. Doesn’t mean we can’t kiss and make up now, so to speak.”

“Uh - fuck you!” Nathan retorted venomously. 

“Language,” the man cackled in the creepiest way possible, “I’ve told you already, your mouth is much too pretty for such vulgarities.” 

Nathan snorted at him like a brat. 

“Look, this ain’t happening, you knob! I’ll give you one more chance to give me my money - and yes, I mean the full sixteen-hundred…”

“You’ll take exactly what I give you, boy. No more, no less!”

He was caught off guard by Dixon lurching at him suddenly, moving his massive body at an impressive speed in an attempt to corner him in his chair. Nathan swung his legs back down and jumped up, just in time to pull away from hefty arms that would have, otherwise, without a doubt, enclosed him.

Instinctively, Nathan took a step backwards, bringing his back dangerously close to the wall.

Dixon followed persistently.


	2. I Think A Bit Of Crazy Is Good

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll just include a small trigger warning for violence, non-consensual touching and also abusive language, but everything should be covered in the tags I hope.
> 
> Also, POV switches back to Simon.

_“You’ll take exactly what I give you, boy. No more, no less!”_

Simon almost turns visible that moment. The man is trying to crowd Nathan and he’s roughly twice his size. Just when it seems he’s got Nathan backed against the wall, though, Nathan becomes feral. He’s holding up his hands in front of him, ready to fight. And so, Simon stays put, quietly waiting, because this Nathan is not to be messed with.

“Fuck off! Get the fuck away from me!” 

The man - Roman Dixon - finally seems to take a small step back, but he’s still cornering Nathan who’s stuck at an awkward angle between him, the desk and the wall. Though they’re not touching, Nathan can’t exactly get past him. 

“You’re very cute when you’re all feisty,” jokes the much older man who’s not aware of his audience. “I’m so used to playing with you when your body is limp and compliant, but I guess I don’t mind you putting up a fight. You do know how to make it interesting for me, love.” 

Simon is only able to see the back of him, but he catches him touching at his belt, and judging from Nathan’s reaction, he must have been in the process of unbuckling it.

“What do you think you’re doing, you sick, sick bastard!” Nathan raises his voice as he scolds him. Part of Simon expects someone from the office to hear him and to start knocking on the door, but no one comes. “You think I find any part of you _remotely_ attractive? I told you, I want my fucking money! And then I want you out of my face, for good!”

“Alright, alright, I’ll give you the money,” Dixon laughs breathlessly, sounding both thrilled and desperate. “You’re asking for sixteen-hundred? You can have it, baby, just let me feel you for a sec.”

He inches forward and reaches for Nathan’s face and then, very suddenly, Nathan is in fact pressed up against the wall as he frantically tries to fend him off. 

“Don’t fucking touch me! Seriously, get your fat hand out of my face, or lose it!” 

“You’re all bark and no bite, aren’t you, darling? Oh, my - I can’t believe how gorgeous you look in that suit. You’ve certainly brightened my day. Turn around for me, I want to see you from behind.”

“Like fuck I will!” Nathan pushes against the man forcefully, but Simon can see his struggling, the size difference being too significant. “Get off!” 

“Even though you fucking piss me off sometimes, I can’t help but love that foul mouth of yours. I should teach you how to make better use of it. Fucking into your dead lips is all good, but I want to feel your tongue tasting me this time…” 

Simon almost makes a retching sound, but manages to pull himself together. Nathan is looking somewhere over the man’s shoulder, as if trying to determine where Simon is. The hard look on his face is beginning to shatter, not with fear, but mortification, which is somehow worse. Nathan has always made such a big deal out of being proudly unfiltered and not getting embarrassed over anything, it physically pains Simon to think that this man holds the power to make him ashamed.

It's probably because Nathan isn't the one controlling the narrative this time. After all, Nathan doesn’t know what the man has used his body for. From having seen his bruises and marks, Simon can only guess the level of abuse involved in this business relationship. But Nathan doesn’t want him to hear the details. Not from Dixon.

“Shut your big, ugly mouth,” Nathan retorts finally, this time using his elbow to shove him back. “I’m serious.”

“Come on,” Dixon laughs, and by the way he ignores him, Simon realises he doesn’t feel threatened whatsoever, “you love a bit of worship, don’t you? You love it when you make my cock hard. You love letting me spoil you like a princess. What can I buy you to make you blow me? And I mean _really_ blow me, like, take me deep into your throat while I pull you by the hair until you can’t breathe…”

“I will NEVER blow you, you pig,” Nathan cries with disgust, after which he digs into his pocket. “Here! Don’t think you can buy me, because I don’t want your sad CRAP!” He throws what looks like the golden necklace Simon has seen around his neck, and the man catches the jewellery with surprise. “I will NOT be doing business with you again, you pathetic twat, so just give me my money and-”

In a rush of passion, the man pounces on him. Startled, Simon assumes Nathan is about to get punched, but rather, he’s thrown up against the wall by Dixon’s hands suddenly roaming up and down his body, pushing him backwards until he’s got him pinned. The bastard even has the audacity to try and kiss him, but Nathan resists fiercely. Simon is rolling up his sleeves, ready to get in the middle, but before he has the chance, Nathan kicks and swears and raises his hand to smack the son of a bitch across his face.

From the sound it makes, he must have put all his strength into it.

“You little tart!” Dixon immediately staggers backwards as he holds a hand over his nose. “Who do you think you are? You’re nothing but a stupid whore that’s not even worth _half_ the money I’ve spent! Did no one ever tell you how this business works? I’m a paying customer and I OWN your arse, so get down on your knees and get to work before I-”

“Before you what?” Nathan spat at him. “Before you kick my teeth in? Right, let’s see what the entire office would think to that, shall we? Want me to call security? Want to show everyone you work with that you’ve unbuckled your trousers in front of a customer?” 

“No one’s going to come in here, it’s just you and me, you bitch,” snarls the other man with menace. “I’d be very careful if I were you.”

“Ooh, I forgot how tough you are, Mr I’ll-pay-young-boys-to-overdose-so-I-can-stab-them-in-the-back-and-steal-their-money! Oh yeah, I’m absolutely shittin’ myself!”

Dixon lets go of his nose and checks his hand for blood. There isn’t any. Simon is feeling all tense from just standing by like this, as if waiting for a cue to reveal himself. But Nathan is keeping him out of it for now. He’s stood there stubbornly facing his ex-client who’s towering above him, both of them refusing to stand down. The more Simon watches the two, the harder it is for him to believe that this man - so brutishly big and vigorous-looking - has had sex with Nathan, has been _inside_ Nathan, even, Nathan who is so much smaller, and skinny, and young, and stupid, and unaware how to protect himself from bad people. His big, green eyes are both his charms and his downfall, because they draw in men like Dixon who, unquestionably, associates Nathan’s youthfulness with naivety and thus regards him as a play-thing he can spoil, and blemish and take advantage of.

Simon wonders how badly Dixon has hurt him and _would_ hurt him if given free rein. It’s not like Nathan has any recollection of being shagged or used by him, but Simon suspects the impact is still there for Nathan to endure both physically and subjectively, even if he doesn’t care to admit it. In that moment, he’s feeling proud of Nathan for throwing all of it back in the idiot’s face, including the jewellery he’s apparently bought him, perhaps in an act of manipulation, or as a way of indirectly claiming ownership. Either way, it’s all about to blow up in his face. Nathan brings his face closer to the man’s, _taunting_ him, because he knows he’s slowly driving him insane with want, and need, and with overall impure desire. Simon sees the way Dixon’s gaze lowers to Nathan’s waist, and to the small of his back. He looks like a predator contemplating how to best trap his prey and at this notion, Nathan smirks calmly. He knows he will fail at any attempt. He knows he cannot be trapped. He has the upper hand.

Dixon falls for it and leans in, truly believing for a moment that Nathan is going to accept his kiss.

Nathan pulls away cruelly, last second before they touch, spins around, laughs:

“I knew you couldn’t resist me, Dix, but you’re really not doing yourself any favours by being so obvious. Now, before you embarrass yourself any further, how about you write me a big, fat cheque, and I promise I’ll be out of your hair.” 

Nathan has turned his back on him and Simon can’t tell if he’s being reckless or stupid by providing the older man with this window of opportunity. Simon practically feels the malice radiating off the bastard, however, he fails to warn Nathan before Dixon hurls himself at him again. With no time to react, Nathan turns around to look at him when a heavy-handed slap forces his head back and causes him to stumble. Dixon doesn’t spare him a moment to recover, but shoves him hard in between the ribs and watches as Nathan falls backwards. He’s on the floor, trying to work out what’s happened, when Dixon grabs him by the collar and pulls him back up, lifts him until his feet are barely touching the ground. Then, he slams him roughly into the nearest wall, consequently squeezing the air out of Nathan’s lungs. He’s left breathless and stunned and he winces in pain. Simon is certain his spine must have borne the brunt of the blow, but Nathan bites back his cursing adamantly, refusing to acknowledge the impact.

Rather than succumbing, he strikes back.

“Put me down! Put me down, or I’ll scream!” 

“Thanks for the heads up, love,” Dixon snaps back and, predictable as he is, he covers Nathan’s mouth with his hand, effectively silencing him. “That’s better. You really are cuter without all the whining.” 

Nathan is objecting wildly, but his protests are muffled and Simon doesn’t catch a word he’s saying. 

“Now, now, I’ll give you one more chance to behave. Be the good, little whore I know you can be.”

He’s scratching at Dixon’s hand like an angered feline, but he’s not letting him go.

“Drop the attitude. You know you’ve been a bad boy, don’t you? And do you know what happens to bad boys? They get punished.”

Nathan growls and tries to knee the prick in between his legs, which results in Dixon slamming him into the wall even harder.

“When is the last time someone dicked you down good, huh? If you’re not careful, I’ll impale you so deep you’ll taste me on the back of your tongue, you little cock-tease.”

Simon feels like panicking. The man is hurting him. He’s being obscene. Alarmed, he begins to look around the room for something to defend them both with. 

“You’d love to feel my fat cock ripping you open, wouldn’t you? I won’t let you miss the show this time, angel. Especially when you have the loveliest, tiniest little hole I’ve ever felt. Do you have any idea how tight you are around me? Makes me certain I can tear you apart.”

Simon wants to cover both his ears. There’s no way Nathan is okay with him hearing any of this. He has no business knowing, or thinking about Nathan’s hole. This is all so wrong. Simon should just make it stop, now, before it gets any more out of hand.

“Is that what you want, darling? Do you want me to break you? Or will you be a good slut and let me fuck you in every hol- AAH!”

Dixon suddenly yelps and pulls away, letting Nathan’s feet back on the ground. He raises his hand and Simon can almost see the teeth marks. Nathan licks the blood off his bottom lip and hollers:

“You _filthy_ piece of shit! I’m going to make sure that ALL your colleagues know what a scumbag you are! Even better, I’m gonna tell your boss how unbelievably _shit_ and _sick_ and _perverted_ you are! I’ll have you out on your fat arse, just wait and see!”

“You little freak! You’re gonna regret that!”

“If you touch me, I’ll tell your wife about all your abusive, back-stabbing shenanigans, you TWAT! Think your divorce has been messy so far? You have NO idea who you’re dealing with!”

“Oh yeah? I’ll cut your tongue out if you speak another word, you pathetic twink. I’ve had it with you.”

Dixon’s hands close around Nathan’s throat before he can get away. Nathan chokes as he begins to slam his fists against the bigger man, furiously trying to hurt him any way he can.

“G-give me… my… money, you… arsehole!”

“Don’t fuck with me, because I _will_ destroy you.”

Dixon is now strangling him as hard as he can. Simon is certain, because Nathan suddenly rasps and sputters as his face changes colour all too quickly. 

“N-now, Barry… _Now_ …”

He’s got no air left in his lungs and his words are barely audible, but he doesn’t have to tell him twice. Simon picks up the chair that Nathan was sat in ten minutes ago and raises it above his head while he approaches. It’s all he can come up with, so he smashes the heavy piece of furniture down on Dixon's head, hard. Dixon releases Nathan’s throat instantly and falls to the floor ungracefully, like a sack of potatoes. Nathan coughs and gasps as he slowly begins to slide down the wall, his legs too shaky to carry him.

“Ba-rry,” he wheezes, but he’s currently unable to talk.

“Shit. Are you okay?” Simon rushes to his side. Nathan startles when he touches his arm, so he quickly makes himself appear to make things easier. “Here, let me help you up.”

Nathan is all woozy, but the minute Simon pulls at his arm, he clings to him, lets the other boy support him fully. 

“Nathan, your neck,” utters Simon, pointing at the red marks standing out from all the pre-existing bruises. 

But Nathan merely turns to kick Dixon in the ribs, wanting to make sure the wanker is unconscious. 

“Jesus, Barry! You could have killed him!” Nathan locks eyes with Simon who finds himself holding his breath, fists clenched tensely. “I mean… Cheers, man.”

Simon feels sick. Someone’s gonna find Dixon like this, out cold on the floor. He’s not bleeding, but he’ll have a big bump, not to mention blotches. It’s only a matter of time before he regains consciousness and tells everyone what they did. 

“We have to get out of here, now,” Simon whispers faintly, but Nathan ignores him and kneels down next to the enormous-looking body on the floor. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like? The dickwat owes me a grand and a half.” Nathan reaches inside the man’s jacket and eventually pulls out a black wallet. “Aha!”

“Are you serious?” Simon frets. “We are about to get caught any second - we don’t have time for this!”

“If I don’t get my money back, this will have all been for nothing. You do realise that?” Nathan opens the wallet with zero concern and turns it inside-out. He’s probably expected Dixon to carry at least the £800 he stole back from him, so when he takes out the notes he can find and only counts to £70, he’s well annoyed. “Seriously? I die twice, have my dead body molested, AND I nearly get strangled to death, _all that_ for just seventy quid? What a FUCKING joke!”

“It doesn’t matter!” Simon sputters desperately, feeling his heart jump in his throat. “ _Please,_ Nathan, we’ve got to run! Come on!”

*

Simon was almost hyperventilating in the lift. As the doors closed, he must have been breathing too loudly, because Nathan uttered:

“What do you even have to be scared of? You’re invisible. You’re not the one walking out of here looking like a prick with a swollen throat. You’re fine.”

Contrary to what he’d expected, Nathan’s words had come out light-hearted. Perhaps he’d thought he could make him laugh. But Simon was too stressed. The last time the police were called on him, they’d put him in that hopeless, soul-crushing institution where they’d justified trying to get inside his head and extract and analyse his deepest, darkest secrets. They’d been so determined to investigate his inner demons and to prove him a freak, to which Simon suspected they’d come dangerously close. But he could never go back. Not now. Not after the storm. If they found out about his power, they would link him and the gang to Tony and Sally’s murders. And if they found out about Nathan, and the business he was running, and all the stabbings, including Simon’s participation…

No. No, that could _never_ happen.

“Nothing about this is fine,” Simon snapped nervously. He was not looking at Nathan. He was bending over with his palms resting on his knees, attempting to steady his breathing. “We shouldn’t have come here. I - I don’t know what we were thinking…” 

Nathan bit back his reply as the lift arrived back in the lobby. When the doors opened, a group of three brushed past Nathan before they managed to step out, and Simon only narrowly escaped the lift before a tall woman assumed his position by the panel. He accidentally stepped on her foot on the way out. He knew because he heard her hissing, but he was too scared to look behind him. Unlike him, Nathan crossed the lobby all confident, even waving at the receptionist on the way to the exit.

“Ta!” He greeted her calmly, like his business meeting hadn’t culminated with Dixon’s hands around his throat. “See ya later!”

As soon as they left the building, Simon recklessly dragged Nathan back towards the alley where he knew he’d be able to change back.

“Easy!” Nathan griped, nearly tripping over various bins. “No offense, but pulling someone into an abandoned alley like that feels sorta rapey! Especially considering you have a history.” 

“Shut up! That’s not funny.”

Simon resurfaced and appeared next to Nathan who, for once, didn’t startle. 

“Argh, come on, Barry, I’m only jokin’. I know you saved my arse in there.” He put his hand on Simon’s shoulder, but Simon was all over the place. “Which makes it even more unfortunate,” he added, “that I can’t exactly pay you the £300 you were promised.”

“Well, obviously,” Simon huffed moodily, “ _obviously_ you don’t have £300 to give away, and you know what, Nathan, I don’t believe I was ever going to see that money. You know why? Because this plan was always going to fail spectacularly. The plan was dumb, and moronic, and dangerous, and now that I think about it, I _can’t_ believe you ever persuaded me to go through with this!” 

At that, Nathan shrugged composedly. 

“I mean, at least we had a day out,” he said, looking like he’d just made an excellent point, “look around you. The sun is out. We’re breathing a bit of fresh air. We’re two good-looking guys dressed up in suits. You got to hit that bastard over the head with a chair, which was kind of satisfying. It wasn’t all bad, d’you know what I’m saying?”

“Are you kidding me?” Simon grumbled back at him. “You just got assaulted and harassed by the man who killed you and stole your money, and all you have to say is at least we had a day out? It wasn’t all bad? You know what, Nathan, I really don’t get you sometimes.” 

“Come on, Barry, I said I was sorry about the money. I’d make it up to you if I could!”

“Don’t you get it?” Simon barked at him. “It’s not about the money! I couldn’t care less about the money!”

“Well, still. Let me do something nice for you in return. I’ll buy you lunch,” suggested Nathan. “McDonald’s was just across the road from the bus stop.”

Simon shook his head no, feeling much too agitated to even consider his offer.

“We’ve got to get back before Shaun gets suspicious. I don’t want to cause any more disturbance.” 

“Shaun?” Nathan chuckled nonchalantly. “He said to be back _after_ lunch. And we’ve not eaten yet. Now, come on. Don’t be so difficult when I’m trying to say thanks for defending me.”

“You’re just worried I’m going to ask for my percentage of the £70 you stole,” retorted Simon meanly, feeling strangely petty and cynical. 

“Well, are you?” 

Nathan watched him expectantly. 

Simon let out a sigh.

“No, Nathan. I don’t want any stolen money from you.”

“Great. Then, let’s spend it instead.”

*

This was the second time they were sharing a table, Simon noted. The second time Nathan was buying him a meal, being nice to him, trying to lighten the mood. This was, however, also the second time he’d done Nathan a life-saving favour - one that neither of them could burden anyone else with, meaning that in that sense, they were pretty much stuck with one another. Perhaps that was the only reason why Nathan was trying to make an effort with him. Perhaps it was all a calculated gesture to reel him in, because he wasn’t yet done with him.

Simon felt like he couldn’t think straight anymore. The rush of adrenaline had left him feeling tired and deflated. Mistrustful. 

But also - 

Nathan was sporting that little crease he’d always get between his eyebrows when something bothered him. It was such a small trait, but enough to give away something hidden and unspoken between them. Simon realised he probably wasn’t feeling totally fine, after all. Not that he’d actually asked him how he felt. He hadn’t needed to. Nathan had acted completely unshaken as they’d left Dixon’s office. He’d been the one dealing with Simon’s panic, not the other way around.

_He looks fragile when he lets his guard down._

_He looks so hurt it’s almost endearing._

Nathan was eating uncharacteristically slowly instead of wolfing everything down. After a while he loosened his tie and very subtly, he brushed his fingers against his neck, gingerly feeling the swelling when he thought Simon wasn’t looking. 

“Maybe you should get that checked,” Simon remarked whilst trying to keep his head down as to not provoke a scornful come-back. “If it hurts, I mean.”

Nathan immediately rearranged his tie and gave him a slightly hostile look.

“You see everything, don’t you? Jesus! You’re always on the watch.”

“I’m just saying, you didn’t die this time. So your power won’t magically fix you up.”

Feeling no urge to entertain Simon’s observations, Nathan stuffed his mouth with fries and scowled at him. He’d allowed himself to be vulnerable for one second, and there Simon was, having the nerve to point out the fact that he wasn’t nearly as invincible as he thought he was. 

Simon decided to speak his truth.

“Nathan, I don’t think you should do this stuff anymore.”

_You barely got away with it this time._

_The man tried to force himself on you._

_Why aren’t we even talking about it?_

_This is not fine. You’re not fine._

He assumed Nathan would pretend he didn’t know what he was talking about, but Nathan merely echoed:

“I don’t think I should do this stuff anymore _on my own._ ”

Simon frowned.

“What does that mean?”

Nathan hesitated as he looked around him. They’d found a booth in a more isolated corner of the restaurant and there weren’t even any kids on this floor. Just greasy, gangly teenagers who, like them, looked like they were bunking off. Still, Nathan chose his words carefully:

“Look, I admit it. I probably wouldn’t have been fine if I’d gone to see Dixon by myself.”

“You’re not fine, Nathan,” Simon reminded him, “he slapped you. He… hurt you.”

“I know. But if you hadn’t been there, things would have gotten out of hand, shall we say? More than they already did.” Nathan bit his lip, and despite looking somewhat uncomfortable, he was speaking honestly. “I’m really sorry I fucked up with the money, okay. But think about it, Barry. I have the potential to expand my business, I just need to be smart about it. I need someone to look out for me so that pricks like Dixon won’t ever take advantage of me again.”

“And how are you going to make that happen? What exactly are you suggesting?” 

Nathan leaned in over the table, whispering:

“Look, I’m not saying I need a pimp, per say. I’m not looking for someone to whore me out. Just someone to do, I don’t know, admin and stuff.”

“Admin?”

“Yeah, like, taking care of money. Making sure my clients pay up and stick to what we’ve agreed. See, I’m vulnerable to fraud when I’m dead. But if I had someone to look out for me and make sure nothing happens to my body until I come back to life again…” 

“Wait, stop. By ‘someone’…” Simon paused with dread. “Do you mean me?” 

“Would that be so bad?” 

Nathan offered him a hint of a smile, but it wasn’t the type of smile that sat well with Simon at all. It was exactly the kind of smile that boded trouble. 

“You’re out of your mind!” Simon stood up so quickly, he accidentally pushed his chair back. “No. Absolutely not. No way!” 

He whipped around and walked out before Nathan could convince him otherwise.

“Simon, wait!”

Simon dashed out of the restaurant and headed straight for the bus stop, not looking back. He was walking fast when a sudden realisation nearly had him stopping dead in his tracks.

He’d called him by his name.

“Simon, stop! Hey! Wait up!”

Nathan caught up with him. Though he stalled when the other boy touched his arm, Simon was too puzzled to say anything.

“Where are you going?” Nathan asked him moronically.

Simon slowly turned around to face him. Nathan was watching him cluelessly with his burger still in his hand.

“Where do you think? Back to the community centre before Shaun reports us.” 

Unworried, Nathan snorted and quickly scoffed down the rest of his food.

“We aren’t done, though,” he remarked, talking with his mouth full. “You didn’t let me finish.”

“I feel no need to hear the rest,” said Simon darkly. “I already know where this is going. The answer is no.” 

“But I would-”

“No!” Simon persisted, breaking apart from him again. “We’re done. I’m not doin’ you any more favours.”

“It wouldn’t be a favour!” Nathan argued one last time. “I’d pay you. Seriously. I’ll give you a percentage of all my earnings. You won’t have to do much, not if you don’t want to.”

Simon couldn’t help but snap at him:

“Oh, you mean, I wouldn’t have to wipe up any more of your blood? Or clean you up if you shit yourself? Or, I don’t know, stab you in the heart whenever your clients can’t be bothered to finish the job?” Simon knew he sounded perturbed and sulky, but he didn’t care. “I mean it, Nathan, I’ve had enough.”

“But…” Nathan looked at him almost pleadingly. The pitch of his voice had changed slightly, manipulating him perfectly. “I have no one else to ask. Simon, please, hear me out.”

“No, Nathan, you hear _me_ out. You don’t even like me. You make fun of me all the time. I don’t know why I bothered to help you in the first place.”

Nathan smirked like he was about to crack another joke. But by the way his eyes were dimming and his body deflating with a heavy sigh, Simon could tell he was faltering.

“Okay, look. There’s something I need to admit to you. And I’m not just sayin’ it to try and change your mind.”

“Yeah right. We’ll see about that,” Simon uttered with disdain.

“You know the night I called you because I had a… favour… to ask?”

Simon found his heart pounding hard in his chest. He knew exactly what Nathan was referring to and yet, he had to make sure:

“The night you asked me to save you? _Kill_ you, I mean.”

“Watch it!” Nathan hissed suddenly, looking behind him to see if anyone was listening. “Anyway, yes. That’s the one. Listen, man, I - I know I pretended to want Kelly, and to have pressed the wrong number and shit, but…”

Simon glared at him with astonishment.

“Wait, _I_ was your first choice? But… why? Were you - were you trying to fuck with me or something?”

“No!” Nathan pulled a face at his accusation. “Don’t tell me I need to remind you that I was, in fact, very much dying and bleeding out of every hole. I was in NO condition to fuck with you, you twat! I never meant to wake up like that. I never meant to FEEL the blade cutting me open, that’s not the kind of dying I signed up for!” 

“Alright, I - I know that,” Simon appeased him, remaining rather confused. “Still. Why me? Why not Kelly?”

Nathan inhaled deeply before shrugging his shoulders.

“I couldn’t do that to her.”

“Right. But you had no problem getting _my_ hands dirty? You didn’t care about putting me in danger, did you? You… you incriminated me!”

“I did not incriminate you! Besides, that wasn’t why I called you. It’s not like I _wanted_ to put you in a predicament like that, or wouldn’t care if you were in danger!”

“I’m not sure I believe you.”

“Look, I was bleeding out fast! I didn’t have much time to think it through! I kinda just went with my instinct and I immediately thought of you,” Nathan elaborated frantically. “I guess what I’m trying to say is that, deep down, I knew you were probably the only person I know who would go through with it and actually pull the knife out and, you know… do what was necessary.”

“Oh, that’s nice. Is that you calling me a psychopath again? Weirdo? Serial-killer? Go on, Nathan, the list is long! Just tell me what a big freak I am, why don’t you?” 

Simon felt his cheeks reddening madly as his heart pounded harder and harder in his chest. He felt indignant and exasperated. How dared Nathan use that night against him? He had no idea what he’d put him through. He had no idea how his own actions kept him up at night. Besides, Simon was not the one letting strangers murder him for money. He was not the one letting ghoulish, depraved men sexually assault and humiliate him. If anything, Nathan was the freak; oblivious and insensitive. He’d assumed Simon would feel no guilt taking his life ever so routinely. He’d probably thought he had no feelings, no qualms whatsoever, too mentally-disturbed to worry about morals, or integrity, or loyalty. If he thought he’d been so desperate for the thrill of blood, and violence, that he didn’t even care _who_ he drew it from, he was so far beyond delusional, Simon didn’t know whether to actually _hate_ him or pity him.

He was about to shout at him again when Nathan watched him intensely and interrupted his train of thought:

“I’m not calling you either of those things, and that’s _not_ why I asked for your help. Let’s face it. Anyone else would have hung up on me and assumed my dying ramblings were just part of some prank. But I knew you’d believe me. I knew you’d be persuaded, because guess what? You are just the right amount of crazy to take someone like me seriously. And I know that that’s messed up. _I’m_ messed up. But I’m thinking so are you. You wouldn’t have done what you did if you were all ultra-normal and clean, like those bloody virtue virgins!”

“Oh here we go again!” Simon laughed sarcastically as he stared Nathan down meanly. “You think you get to call me crazy like it’s a compliment? You really think you can make me jump through hoops for you by means of insult and disrespect…”

“But I don't mean it as an insult!” Nathan maintained. “I mean, I guess you can say that a bit of crazy is exactly what I need! I think - I think a bit of crazy is good. _You’re_ good, Simon.”

Nathan’s troubled, green eyes were trying to appeal to his emotions, but Simon’s logic had him resisting. He shook his head stubbornly and took a step back, very much feeling the need for space and room to think. He didn’t want to be manipulated this easily. Nathan was just saying whatever he thought would work. Simon doubted he meant any of it. Suddenly, he wanted to show Nathan just how crazy he could be. Nathan had no idea who he was talking to. Simon could tell him about the picture he’d taken of his dead body and watch him freak out. The picture which had made him cum to oblivion and had nearly shattered him with yearning. If he wanted, he could tell him about tasting his blood, and longing to do it again. Or about watching Nathan’s bruises and just wondering what his own hands would look like squeezing around his neck. He could mention the fact that the golden necklace he’d worn had looked like a token of all the blowjobs he’d let the men steal from his dead mouth. He could bring up all the thoughts he’d carried with him since cleaning up his naked body the first time. He could tell Nathan how often he thought about his pale skin, his protruding ribs, his still, unmoving eyelashes, his chest, nipples, legs, arms, dick, his arse that had spilled with blood and cum altogether.

If he wanted, Simon was positively certain he could crush him with information.

“Simon, please. Say something.”

Nathan’s voice had him snapping out of his dark musings. The look on his face was nervous and ill at ease. It had Simon smiling to himself, feeling strangely powerful.

“I’m going back, Nathan. I told you, we’re done here.”


	3. Burning Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait and sorry for the super lengthy chapter! :)
> 
> Please note that tags have been changed and now include additional warnings.
> 
> *Trigger warnings* for attempted rape/non-con, violence, boarderline stalking and non-consensual biting, murder (non-consensual), and spiking/ date rape drugging. Things are getting very dark, so please mind these tags before reading.

In a weird way, it didn’t surprise Simon at all that Nathan was trying to be nice to him at the pub. Initially, it had been Kelly’s idea to go out for drinks Thursday night. Alisha had almost cancelled when she heard that Curtis was bringing Nikki, but she’d changed her mind upon realising Simon would be there. She seemed to think that the two of them had an awful lot to talk about, but Simon’s mind was, naturally, elsewhere.

No one had invited Nathan. Not even Kelly. She had been worried Nathan would see the occasion as an opportunity to hook up with another client, and she definitely did not want to be around for that to happen. Curtis had backed her up without hesitation, claiming they would have a better time without him, anyway. Alisha and Nikki hadn’t cared enough to object, meanwhile Simon had chosen to stay silent for very different reasons. But Nathan must have heard them making plans without them knowing. He showed up at their table only ten minutes after they’d arrived, looking not at all surprised to find them all together.

“Fancy seeing you lot here! So - what are we drinking tonight?”

Nathan looked as though he enjoyed their bewilderment.

Curtis was the first to break the silence.

“Uh, you were not invited.”

“I don’t need an invitation to go to the pub, you dick.” Nathan snorted, pulling his can-you-believe-this-guy face. “It doesn’t have your name on it. Neither does this chair.”

He took a seat next to Simon who began to tense helplessly. Before he could say anything, Alisha returned from the toilets, her mouth falling open when she saw Nathan.

“I was going to sit there,” she remarked cuttingly, making Simon squirm with embarrassment.

“Too bad I beat you to it.” Nathan simply hit back, pretty much ignoring her. “So, Barry. I reckon I owe you another twenty-five pounds or so. What can I get you?”

Simon was speechless. Was this Nathan’s reaction to being turned down? Nathan’s way of telling him that he had no problem pestering and mortifying him until Simon finally caved and gave him everything he wanted? Surely not even he could be that big of a pain in the arse.

“Twenty-five pounds?” Curtis sounded outraged. “You owe _me_ a lot more than that, you prick! You should be buying all of us drinks!” 

“Oh I’m sorry, Curtis,” Nathan mocked him. “Are you not familiar with this thing called favouritism? Should I explain to you how it works?”

“I - I don’t want you to buy me any drinks,” Simon intervened awkwardly, trying to prevent things from escalating. “It’s okay. You don’t owe me anything.” 

“Sure I do. Come on, Barry, I just wanna say thanks again for all your help. You’ve earned it, man!”

“Earned what?” Kelly looked at them both with suspicion. “What the fock is goin’ on?” 

“Nothing!” Simon’s voice was strained. “Just - forget it.” 

Kelly focused her attention on Nathan.

“Seriously, what do you owe him money for? Answer me, dickhead!”

“Alright, calm down,” Nathan chuckled lightly, “it’s just some money that I want Barry to have because he’s been such a… great friend… recently.”

Simon caught Alisha glaring at him, but he didn’t dare make eye contact. 

“Simon is not your friend,” she pointed out coldly, to which Nathan leered.

“I beg to differ! What other word would you use for someone who’s been kind enough to devote his time and effort to looking after me, and escorting me to-”

“The A&E,” Simon added quickly. “Yeah, I - I went with Nathan to the A&E. It really wasn’t a big deal.”

Nathan turned his head to smile at him plainly. 

“Don’t be so modest, Barry, you did more than just that.”

“I thought you faked the whole needle thing,” huffed Curtis, unconvinced. “You were just trying to bunk off, weren’t you?”

Simon knew he had to come up with something before, god forbid, Nathan did.

“I w-wanted him to go to the A&E to get his bruises checked,” he stammered nervously. “I was… worried.”

Kelly appeared to notice the panic in Simon’s eyes, and she raised her voice at them relentlessly:

“Okay, something seriously weird is going on with you two!”

“Look, I don’t care what this is about. Just leave Simon alone, why don’t you?” Alisha snapped. “Stop being such a wanker. This is why we don’t invite you to stuff!”

Nathan opened his mouth to talk back at her, but Simon stopped him by pulling his arm.

“Nathan, a word?”

They left the table and went to the bar together, Nathan smirking like he’d gotten the reaction he wanted. 

“What the fuck was that?” Cried Simon, pulling the other boy aside as soon as Nathan had ordered himself a pint. “You did that on purpose!”

“Did what?” Griped Nathan, acting innocent. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“Look, either you’re being a pain because you want to get back at everyone for not inviting you tonight,” said Simon bluntly, “for which I, frankly, can’t say that I blame them.”

“How dare you! I’m the life of the party, always!”

“OR,” Simon persisted, “you’re trying to blackmail me into changing my mind about helping you. Which I’m not going to do, no matter how much you threaten to tell everyone what we did…”

“I have _not_ threatened you!” Nathan protested, scandalised. “Where do you even get this idea from?”

“I’m not stupid. You were dropping all those hints just now. I can tell you want something from me. You always act like this when you want something.”

“Act like what exactly?” Nathan was no longer grinning, but reciprocating Simon’s angry stare. “Being nice? Making a gesture? You think I can’t be decent and offer to buy you a drink unless I’m plotting somethin’ horrible?” 

“Just admit it,” Simon bit at him, “you’re frustrated because I won’t do the dirty work and handle your clients for you, and you’re acting out because you have no one else to ask. Stop being such a child. Just - leave me alone.”

“Is this because I called you crazy the other day?” Nathan chuckled, though there was nothing funny about it. “I told you, I meant it as a good thing! Crazy means I trust you.”

Simon balled up both his fists instinctively.

“I am not crazy!” He sputtered. “I - I don’t need your trust! Seriously, Nathan, just shut the fuck up and stop spoiling everyone’s night.”

He went back to the table, ignoring Nathan who followed stubbornly. When they both sat down again, Curtis rolled his eyes, having undoubtedly hoped Nathan would leave. 

“Here is what I don’t understand, yeah?” Kelly leaned in closer, and for a moment Simon wasn’t sure if she was addressing him or Nathan, or both. “If you took Nathan to the A&E, how come he came back with more bruises than before?” 

Simon seized up, having no answer ready. The same couldn’t be said of Nathan who joked immediately:

“Barry likes to choke me during sex. There, I said it. Going to the A&E was just code for shagging each other’s brains out. Is there anything else you’re curious about, Kel? I’m happy to let you all in on our super romantic love affair.”

But naturally she was too appalled to add anything else. Simon caught everyone making faces as part of one shared reaction: unamused, unmitigated, utter repulsion.

_That’s how terrible the idea of me and him is._

_Obviously._

_Him and I are so wrong._

“You’re really sick. You know that?” Alisha gave Nathan a mean stare, after which she picked up her drink and left. 

“Oh, you have no idea!” Nathan shouted after her, which earned him a kick from Kelly under the table. “Ow, careful, man! Those boots are pointier than they look!”

“Just be grateful I only kicked your shin,” replied Kelly warningly. “You don’t wanna know where I really want to kick you right now.”

Nikki broke out laughing, and even Curtis, the humourless twit, beamed with satisfaction. Feeling slandered and fed up with everyone ganging up on him, Nathan huffed and began to down his beer. 

“You guys are no fun,” he remarked in between gulps, after which he finished, slamming down his glass against the table, “excuse me, fellas, I’ll be taking the party elsewhere!” 

“Please do,” snorted Curtis, with Nikki giving Nathan a sarcastic wave. “Moron.”

*

He’d lost track of Nathan’s whereabouts, but when he found him chatting up a girl at the bar an hour later, Simon tried to keep his genuine surprise to himself. After all, it had been pretty obvious what Nathan had meant by _taking the party elsewhere._ He was using Simon’s money to buy the girl (tall, brunette, _flirty_ ) drinks, though. Simon suddenly didn’t just feel taken aback.

He felt _betrayed._

Simon had been queueing at the bar for a solid ten minutes, with the bartender continuing to overlook him, and Simon continuing to let other guys push in front. He was beginning to wonder if he’d activated his power by accident, if he was, indeed, as invisible as everyone treated him. However, when he felt a hand touching at his shoulder, he turned around to see Nathan looking straight at him, disproving his suspicions.

“Barry, I could’ve bought myself ten lagers in all the time you’ve stood there. Let me order something for you.”

“No,” Simon said stubbornly, sounding much ruder than he’d intended. “It’s fine. I’ll get there eventually.”

“Come on. What’re you drinkin’?” Nathan looked at the empty glass Simon was trying to return to the bar. “Coors light? What a surprise.”

Simon frowned, feeling awkward. 

“No, I… I was going to get a Budweiser next,” he muttered with a shrug. 

“Hey, pal!” Nathan yelled at the bartender from the back of the queue. “Can I get a Budweiser on draught and another vodka lemonade for the lady?” Simon took a step back when the brunette girl smiled and put her arm around Nathan. “Here ya go!”

Nathan handed the bartender a tenner before Simon could stop him.

“I was going to pay for myself,” he complained, feeling rather ignored by Nathan who handed him his pint and slipped the change in his pocket. “I told you, you don’t owe me anything. I don’t want you to spend your money on me.”

_Liar._

_Letting Nathan pay for you feels good._

“It’s cool. I’ve got plenty of cash left.” Nathan leaned in close, whispering: “Don’t tell my friend Natalie here, because I don’t want the competition to go to her head, but someone keeps buying me drinks anonymously. Every time I go to the bar, there is a pint with my name on it and they tell me it’s prepaid. Looks like I’ve got a room full of admirers tonight! Boo-yah! Where this handsome, immortal stud goes, the pussy follows!” 

Simon pulled away from him, feeling oddly put-off. Only then did he notice the way Nathan’s pupils had dilated. He looked positively shitfaced.

“I’m pleased for you,” Simon sneered, trying his hardest to ignore the girl that downed her drink in one go and pressed herself against Nathan.

“I’m going for a fag,” she announced, her head resting on his shoulder drunkenly. “See you outside?”

“Sure, baby, I’ll be there to light you up,” Nathan responded lamely, putting on his usual Casanova wannabe persona that had Simon cringing. 

“Anyway,” Simon uttered, urgently needing to escape the conversation, “I should head back to the others.”

“Yeah,” Nathan nodded, “Alisha is probably wondering where you are.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

It had come out all paranoid, but Simon couldn’t help feeling defensive.

“Nothing, man.” Nathan giggled faintly, sounding even more tipsy. “Hey, hold my beer, will you? I’m about to get lucky.”

Just like that, Simon was presented with the glass that had been touched by Nathan’s lips, contained Nathan’s spit, Nathan’s DNA. He was holding it in his hand like a fucking trophy, watching quietly as Nathan pushed his way past the crowd and followed the girl out the backdoor. And Simon, feeling like a fool for even caring, did the only thing that felt manageable as he thought about Nathan’s straight, white teeth and full lips. Licking the glass where he assumed Nathan’s mouth had been, he savoured his own small act of insolence, and in an attempt to reclaim some imaginary sense of dominance between the two, and to absorb, consume and _soak up_ everything that was Nathan, he finished the drink assertively and defiantly. 

*

Curtis was talking, but Simon couldn’t focus on what was being said. His palms were sweaty, the warmth spreading fast throughout the rest of his body. His heart rate had quickened while he’d thought about Nathan and that girl, Natalie, who were undoubtedly out there, snogging each other’s faces off. He was thankful he hadn’t had a chance to watch them. The thought alone was making him ill. 

“You okay, Simon? You’re looking pale, mate.” 

When Simon blinked his eyes open, Kelly was watching him questioningly. 

Shit. How did he get so wasted without realising?

“I’m…” His mouth felt incredibly dry. He swallowed hard to regain in voice. “I’m fine. I just need some water.”

“You’ve only had two pints,” Alisha noted. Simon felt the blood rush to his head, and then it got harder to pay attention to what she was saying. “You’re not much of a drinker, are you?”

Her tone was mild. Kind, even. But Simon knew he had to get out of there so he could compose himself.

“Excuse me for a minute.”

He was in the toilets splashing his face with cold water when he felt so dizzy he had to steady himself against the sink. He felt his breathing becoming laboured and shallow. Already poorly ventilated, the room was getting hotter. It was insufferable. It was like there wasn’t enough oxygen to breathe. Fresh air. He was dying for some fresh air, and so, he staggered out of the small room. Getting immediately stuck in the crowds of people surrounding the bar, his limbs began to twitch, his head rolling back without him being able to stop it. His eyes widened when he became aware of what was happening. His power had almost activated. Here, in front of everyone. He had to get out of there before anyone saw. He sprinted for the back door and pushed past a girl rudely, just as she was trying to enter. It took him a moment before he even registered an element of familiarity. It was the girl Nathan had been with. Natalie. She’s gone back inside without him.

Simon let out a small grunt and felt his head jerking back and forth a couple of times. By the time he fell to his knees, he knew he must have turned. He heard a girl bellowing:

“That guy - he just vanished into thin air! He disappeared!”

Simon’s heart skipped a beat. Then he heard a bloke laughing:

“No more weed for you, Tiffany, you’re starting to sound like a twit!”

He pushed himself upright and watched as the couple discarded their joint and left the small terrass together. Normally he would have shat himself at the thought of revealing his power publically, but he couldn’t think clearly enough to fathom the severity of his indiscretion. The fresh, cold air went straight to his head and made him feel wobbly all over. He could barely orientate himself. He was beginning to forget where he was when the sound of Nathan’s voice stole his attention and brought him back.

_“Sorry, man, she was the one with a lighter. But I don’t mind sharing.”_

Simon couldn’t believe it. Nathan was chatting up someone new. He’d just been with that girl and already, thirty seconds after she’d left, he’d moved on to someone else. Oh, he really was a prick sometimes.

_“Cheers. I’d love a taste.”_

The reply astounded him. It came from another guy. Nathan was with a guy this time. Simon thought his head had burst for a moment. Feeling shocked and dumbfounded, he decided to follow the sound of the voices. 

“So - the bird you were with. She was pretty fit and all. Why’d you let her go?”

Simon stepped off the small, decked terrace and went around the back wall of the pub to find them standing at the opening of a small passageway. He approached them slowly and soundlessly, stealthy as a cat. He’d gotten pretty good at watching people without giving himself away. He knew just how to keep his distance, how to step without making noise, how to muffle his own breathing. Nathan had his back against the cold, brick wall, looking too floppy and unsteady to stand up straight. He was facing a boy that looked approximately his age, though taller and much wider around the back. Blonde, short hair. Strong arms. Body like a Greek statue. This other boy accepted Nathan’s cigarette and brought it to his lips to inhale deeply before passing it back.

Nathan still hadn’t answered the question about letting the girl go, which suddenly had Simon realising that, probably, nothing had happened between them. Now, however, he gave a shrug and took his turn taking a drag of the cigarette, the movement slightly awkward and lacking coordination.

“Didn’t realise you were watching us, mate,” was all he said, sounding playful, yet stumped.

“I was watching _you,_ ” sounded the reply forwardly. The guy brought his face closer to Nathan before exhaling the cigarette smoke deliberately and slowly. “Come on, tell me. I saw her trying to get it on with you. You’re not into birds, are you? Otherwise you’d be mad to turn her down.”

Nathan shrugged again, his face white and sweaty and a bit out of sorts.

“Maybe I am mad,” he joked, sounding more like himself. “Anyway, what does it have to do with you, pal? You interested?”

“Not in her,” smirked the blonde boy cheekily, stealing the cigarette out of his hands one more time. “Do I have to spell it out for you, love? Or are you catching my drift?”

Nathan blinked faintly. He was probably so drunk he did need it spelling out. Simon’s stomach grew suddenly heavy as he anticipated the boy’s next move. The blonde took another drag and aligned his lips with Nathan’s, blowing the smoke against his mouth impishly. He was flirting with him. Nathan didn’t stop him or pull back.

_Nathan likes guys._

Simon was utterly mind-blown, rubbing at his eyes like he couldn’t believe what was happening.

_Nathan turned away the girl._

_He likes guys._

_Why does he pretend to flirt with every girl he sees, then?_

_It doesn’t matter. Nathan is about to get snogged by another guy and he is going to let it happen._

Simon briefly considered sparing himself the emotional turmoil of witnessing what he instantly dreaded and rooted for all at once. Whether he resisted or welcomed it, Nathan was about to kiss another guy in front of him. So what? It wouldn’t change anything between them. Nathan could never know that Simon was there, hearing every word, catching his deep breathing, watching his beautiful, pink lips part. 

This changed nothing.

And yet, it changed everything.

The blonde guy finally rearranged himself to hover over him, his palm pressing against the wall above Nathan’s head as he leaned in. Their lips touched gently at first, the small delay giving Nathan a second chance to back out. But he didn’t. As he stayed put, the blonde let the kiss grow increasingly persistent and experimented by biting Nathan’s bottom lip gently, friskily, before pulling back to make sure he was okay.

“You’re fuckin’ wasted, aren’t you, love?”

“Too wasted to stop you,” confirmed Nathan, his voice thick and strained. His pupils were blown, his arms sliding down his sides helplessly. 

“I can’t tell if that’s an invitation to keep going or not,” admitted the blonde, chuckling with amusement. “Help me out here.”

Nathan looked up at him dimly, smiling.

“Very kind of you to make sure, man. You remind me of someone who’s also very… gentle.” 

Simon swallowed a lump in his throat and held his breath. His brain was working too slowly to try and figure out what he’d meant. Did Nathan actually know what he was saying? Did he mean it?

“Are you thinking about that someone right now?” Asked the blonde, leaning in as he cupped Nathan’s chin with his hand. “Or are you thinkin’ about me?”

Instead of replying, Nathan leaned his head back and just like that, the other boy was kissing him again, only this time, it was a deep, languid, opened-mouthed kiss, involving tongue and teeth. Something inside Simon nearly broke, _ached,_ at the sight of Nathan wrapping his arms around the taller boy’s neck, bringing him closer. The blonde practically fell against him, pushing both of them up against the wall roughly, causing Nathan to let out a moan.

Simon had never heard him moan before. Not like that. Not with pleasure. He’d had no idea Nathan’s voice could even sound like that.

Needy.

Desperate.

_Heavenly._

He was so, so beautiful to behold, Simon wanted to push the other boy off him. He was obscuring his lovely face, smothering those precious noises he was letting out so uncontrollably. Who would have ever thought Nathan could be soft? Sensual? Simon inhaled deeply as a warm, tickling sensation began to spread inside his belly, along with the blood that rushed to his groin. This was better than any fantasy he’d fallen asleep to at night. Better than his most profound wank. Better than all his happy places combined, including those that had gotten him out of even his darkest state of mind. 

This was the most uplifting, captivating feeling in the world.

Only, Simon wasn’t actively part of it.

Someone else had taken his place.

The blonde drew back from Nathan, his lips creating a wet, popping noise as he detached himself.

“You’re burning up. You sure you’re okay?”

“I feel weird…” Nathan sounded out of breath, but Simon was much too excited to be discouraged so soon. “M-my head keeps spinning.”

“Let me get you some water. Wait right here, okay?”

The boy left in a hurry. Simon couldn’t believe his luck. He was alone with Nathan. Nathan who gasped weakly before his legs gave out and caused him to fall on his arse. His hair was big and his curls fell into his eyes messily, making it impossible for Simon to read his expression. His lips were wet and glistening with saliva. Simon was focusing on them intensely when Nathan suddenly jerked and turned his head to the side, away from him. He heaved harshly and loudly, several times before he vomited all over the ground. Too fixated and enthralled to worry about his well-being, Simon approached him from behind, certain that Nathan was too intoxicated to notice. 

This could be his only chance before the boy returned and stole Nathan back.

There was no way he could resist.

He squatted down next to him, and reached out his hand without touching him. He let his hand hover in front of Nathan’s scrunched-up face with fascination, watching him not seeing, not sensing his presence. Nathan’s eyes were completely unfocused and he just kept panting. Simon was dying to brush his fingers against his cheek and observe his reaction to his touch. Recklessly, he leaned in close enough to smell his hair. His chest was so close to Nathan’s face, he wondered if he was able to feel his body heat. He longed to grab a handful of his curls, to pull Nathan’s head back by the hair and force him to look at his invisible figure. Nathan would have enough common sense to know it was him. Simon wanted him to know. 

Before he gathered the courage to do anything about it, the blonde guy came running back with a bottle of water. He paused when he saw the sick on the ground, but only briefly. Proving himself to be the gentleman Simon suspected he was, he ignored the smell and merely wrapped his arms around Nathan, helping him to stand.

“Drink,” he urged him, watching him with genuine worry. He didn’t even know him. _He must be seriously desperate to bang him._ “You’ll feel better.”

Nathan was losing his balance, so the guy steadied him against his shoulder and kept his arm around his waist. Nathan began to drink slowly, taking small sips that he was struggling to even swallow. Simon rose to his feet and aligned himself with Nathan, standing just behind his back. He hated the other guy for being able to hold him. He’d only known him for five minutes. It wasn’t fair. He didn’t know how to talk to Nathan. How to comfort him. How to thrill him. Twitching with elation and impatience, Simon angled his head and positioned himself by Nathan’s shoulder. He was rendered thoughtless and uncareful with want and could no longer be held back by sanity alone. All he wanted was a taste, a mouthful of Nathan. He opened up his jaw and sank his teeth into Nathan’s neck, **biting** him as ruthlessly and brutally as he could. When he felt his pulse fluctuating beneath his front teeth, he thought he was going to go mad. He wanted to break his skin. He wanted to leave his mark on him and drink his blood. He wanted Nathan to submit to him, and to cry, which thankfully he did.

In fact, his screaming startled the other boy who let go of him with alarm.

“OW! Son of a bitch!” Nathan yelped as his hand went to touch at the bite mark. “How did you do that? Your face was nowhere near...”

“How did I do what? What happened?” The blonde frowned, not understanding the root of Nathan’s sudden pain. “Are you okay?”

“D-don’t!” Uttered Nathan then, batting away the hands that tried to console him. “Y-you did something! Don’t pretend you don’t know…”

“I swear, I didn’t do anything! Let me see that.”

Reluctantly, Nathan removed his hand and let the other boy inspect the reddening bite mark that was still wet and throbbing below his jaw.

“What the fuck…”

Simon knew he shouldn’t be smiling. This was bad. This was so very bad, and yet, he couldn’t get over his own enjoyment. 

“Look, I think we should get you back inside,” suggested the taller boy, sounding freaked out. 

“N-no,” declined Nathan, pulling away from him dismissively. “I’m not going anywhere with you! Fuck this shit!” 

“Listen to me, love, whatever it is that you think I did, I didn’t. You have to believe me.”

Nathan was starting to look terrorised and dazed. He looked like he’d seen a ghost. The denial, however, was visible on his face. Had it not been for his drunkenness, perhaps he would have come to a slightly different conclusion. However, lucky for Simon, he just shook his head and chose to completely dissociate, not trusting what his own instincts were telling him.

“I don’t have to believe anything,” he huffed, sounding upset. “Just - stay away from me. Screw you!”

The blonde boy remained frozen with bewilderment.

Simon, on the other hand, followed Nathan shamelessly.

*

Nathan was on his knees in a toilet stall, puking his guts out. Meanwhile, Simon was sat on the floor underneath the sinks, just struggling to come down from his high. He wasn’t sure when his power had deactivated and turned him visible again. He just knew that when Curtis walked in for a piss, he stopped at the look of him and uttered:

“What the fuck?”

Simon felt like a mess. He didn’t remember what he’d been thinking when he’d followed Nathan in here. He didn’t think Nathan was even aware of his company. He just kept throwing up on the other side of the wall, and frankly, it was starting to make Simon’s stomach turn.

“Curtis, I - something weird is happening,” Simon wheezed, reaching up to grasp at the nearest sink. “I - I can’t get up…”

“Why the fuck are you on the toilet floor?” Curtis grimaced, though he did lend him his hand for support. “What’s going on? You’ve been gone for, like, an hour.”

“I think I’m having a bad reaction to something. So is Nathan.”

“Nathan?”

Curtis grunted as he pulled him up from the sticky tiles. 

“Yeah. He’s in there,” explained Simon, gesturing with his head, “I think he’s pretty sick.”

“Oh, that’s well gross!” Curtis let go of him and wiped his hand on his trousers. “Dude, you’re sweating a ton!” 

Simon ignored his comment.

“I - I think Nathan needs help. He’s not well.”

“Are you sure he didn’t just drink himself to oblivion like an idiot? It wouldn’t be the first time.”

“I don’t know. But we can’t leave him in there. Not on his own.” 

Curtis was stalling when the sound of Nathan’s retching intensified and put him off the idea of interfering. 

“I’m not going in there, that’s too disgusting. I’ll get Kelly. She’s the one claiming to care about the knob, anyway.”

Unlike Curtis, Kelly hadn’t even hesitated going into the men’s room. As soon as she’d heard that Nathan was ill, she had come to his aid and not given a damn about the others telling her not to waste her time. Simon guiltily watched her march into the stalls and force a pint of water down Nathan’s throat, assuming it was what he needed. When he’d started spewing even worse, she’d scolded him for being a reckless drinker and held his hair back at the same time, gently and with care. At his lack of responsiveness, she had turned to Simon, genuinely frightened:

“This is bad. We should probably get him home and let him sleep it off.”

Simon felt uncertain and had suggested taking him to the hospital instead. At that, Curtis had retorted:

“Look, even if it’s alcohol poisoning, he’s immortal. He’ll survive it.”

Kelly had asked for Simon’s help walking Nathan out to the taxi. He was barely conscious by the time she buckled him up in the backseat. Despite Alisha suggesting he should stay for another drink, Simon knew instantly he’d rather go. It didn’t feel right leaving Kelly with the responsibility. Nathan was his problem as much as hers.

“Simon, your eyes look all dark. Are you feeling alright? You’re sure you don’t mind comin’ with us?”

Kelly put her hand on his knee as he met her gaze. He was aware of his limbs shaking. She watched him closely, but he was nowhere near as bad as Nathan. He could do this. He’d gone from wanting to suck the blood out of his neck to feeling strangely protective.

“I’ll be okay,” he nodded, biting back his nausea. “I wanna make sure he gets back safely. Then I’ll walk you home, too.”

The taxi parked outside the community centre and Simon and Kelly helped each other carry Nathan out of the vehicle. Luckily, he hadn’t been sick since they’d left the pub. For now, it was only a matter of wrapping his arms around their shoulders and walking him inside, step by step. Nathan was too incomprehensive to talk, but at the sound of Kelly’s encouragement, they managed to get him to move his feet slowly. The community premises were left completely dark, however, as the light from the taxi lit up the parking spaces in front of the building, Nathan’s head snapped up suddenly. His entire body stilled while he kept from walking.

“H-here…”

Simon caught the way his eyes focused and widened with alarm.

“What? Nathan, what is it?” Kelly pulled at his arm, but he wasn’t moving. “Come on. We’re nearly there.”

“H-he - here…” Nathan tried one more time.

“Here,” Simon repeated, puzzled. “Yes, we’re here. Just… take it easy.”

They had no clue what he was trying to say. Simon kept trying to figure out what he was looking at, but all he could see in front of them was a parked black SUV. He didn’t think there was anything unusual about that. It could have been parked there all week. Rather than starting an investigation, they yanked him forward and made him follow their lead. Kelly had said something about wanting to spend the night with him. She feared Nathan would vomit and suffocate in his sleep, but as they guided him inside the building, dragged him upstairs to the mezzanine and laid him down on his mattress, she spotted something that immediately changed her mind.

“His neck,” she exclaimed, brushing back his curls to let Simon see. “He’s been bitten or somethin’.” 

Simon felt his stomach drop, but he didn’t dare open his mouth. If he’d tried to make up a lie on the spot, he would have failed. He was too woozy and exhausted to convince her that it was nothing for her to worry about. He’d much rather pretend not to know, not to have any explanation whatsoever.

“Simon,” she said, backing away from Nathan like she thought he was infectious. “I think he’s been with another client. That’s why he’s so pissed. He’s been trying to overdose again.”

Simon blinked a couple of times, neither agreeing or denying.

“You wanker!” Kelly cried then, raising her voice at Nathan who looked positively passed out. “You could have fuckin’ said! I was actually worried about you!”

“I - I don’t think he can hear you,” remarked Simon sluggishly. 

“It doesn’t matter. Let’s go. I already told him, I’m not going to get involved with his stupid hookups. He needs to sort himself out. Overdose or not, I’m not going to clean up his mess for him!” 

Simon wondered if he should stand up for him, but Kelly was already leaving. She was furious. He decided to simply follow her instead of challenging her. He didn’t have the balls to ask her to stop when he felt his stomach tightening painfully. He’d thought he could suppress it until they were back by the car park. Then, he deteriorated helplessly.

“Simon? What’s wrong?”

She paused when she heard him heaving by the bushes. His whole body tensed while he barfed and barfed and almost failed to breathe in between. When it was finally over, he rose miserably, clueless as to what had come over him.

“Simon? Answer me. Are you okay?”

He pulled back and frowned at what he saw.

“What the hell…”

He scarcely believed his own eyes. His vomit was all black. He’d never seen that sort of colour before, not coming out of his own body. There was something disturbingly unnatural about the way his hands trembled, about the way his face kept flushing and sweating. He suddenly thought of Nathan who’d bragged about his admirers, and about not needing to pay for his own drinks. Someone had to have taken advantage and slipped him something. And Simon, being no brighter than a fucking fool, had let his mouth roam all over his glass, licking up the leftover poison.

“Something is wrong,” he breathed, spitting at the horrible taste in his mouth. “We need to go back to check on him.”

“What? Why?” Kelly glared at him, not understanding a word. “Simon, what’s going on?”

“Nathan. I think he’s been spiked.”

He was grateful when she didn’t immediately raise the question as to how that explained his ailment. Before Kelly even commented on his suspicions, Simon came to another realisation. The black car. It had caused Nathan to panic. Maybe he’d seen it before. Maybe he knew who it belonged to. It was parked outside for a reason. This was all part of someone’s elaborate plan to target him. And instead of making sure that he was safe, they’d left him in there, drugged and defenseless. 

“Shit! We have to go get him!”

“What does that mean? What the fuck is happening?”

But there was no time to explain. Simon ran as fast as he could without even checking if Kelly was behind him. He jumped back in through the window, taking a look around the room before picking up a hammer that was left discarded on a small utility shelf. Kelly started shouting at him, demanding to know what he was planning on using it for. Simon ignored her and headed straight for the mezzanine, getting ready to strike. In that moment, he heard Nathan’s screaming from above, confirming his fears to be true. The sound of his cries finally persuaded Kelly, too, that something was terribly wrong, and consequently, she brushed past Simon and overtook him as they both raced up the stairs. He hadn’t heard them coming. Not at first. They caught him in the act, before he could dismount Nathan and pull his trousers back up. He’d ripped Nathan’s clothes and undressed him down to his underwear. By now, Nathan was very much conscious and aware, his eyes big with horror and glistening with unspilled tears. Simon’s jaw dropped at the look of him, pinned underneath the much larger man who had his own cock out, attempting to get Nathan to stop squirming.

Dixon. Simon recognised his broad figure instantly. The back of his head was bandaged from where the chair had hit him the other day. His expression was wild and neurotic with rage. He’d done this to get back at Nathan for the stunt he and Simon had pulled. In an act of revenge, Dixon must have drugged and ambushed him and had it not been for his and Kelly’s interruption, he would have violated him, too. He very nearly had.

“What the fock!” Kelly bellowed with outrage. “Nathan! Get off him, you slimy cunt!”

Simon didn’t spare the man a moment to obey, but sprinted, raising the hammer in Nathan’s defense. He had come prepared, however. Even as he charged at him, it was too late. Dixon pulled the knife out of his sleeve faster than Simon could reach him. It happened so quickly, he barely registered the blade plunging into Nathan’s stomach. He only heard the gasping sob, followed by Kelly’s squealing. Dixon swiftly withdrew the knife from Nathan’s guts and pointed it at Simon, keeping him at bay.

“Unless you possess the same immortal powers as the whore, I’d suggest you back off, pal.”

Simon inhaled sharply, nervously, but refrained from moving an inch.

“Simon,” Kelly cried frantically, “don’t! I can hear his thoughts. He’s gonna kill you!” 

Dixon shoved the knife forward and Simon only narrowly missed the cut, tripping over his own legs as he jumped back. His misstep had Dixon smirking. His hand suddenly wrapped itself in Nathan’s hair and the next thing Simon knew, he slit open Nathan’s throat brutally, triggering an even louder wail from Kelly. Letting Nathan’s head drop to the floor, he turned around to find that Simon had disappeared.

“What the-”

Dixon shifted on top of Nathan and was about to move off him when Simon, in his invisible state, walked up to him slowly and lifted the hammer, aiming.

“Guess it’s just you and me now, lass,” he joked, eyeing Kelly smugly. “You’re not gonna try and stand in my way now, are ya? You’ll be a clever girl and pretend you never saw m-”

He was cut off abruptly by the hammer smashing his forehead in. Dixon didn’t have time to react as his skull cracked open, erupting with blood and mucus. Before his body tipped over, Simon let the hammer come down on him again, this time blowing hard against his temple and causing the left eye to pop out of the socket. The heavy body landed lifelessly on top of Nathan who was choking, but still alive. Groaning, Simon kicked Dixon’s ribs, pushing him back in order to pull Nathan free.

There was a moment that went past him in which everything went suddenly blank. Quiet. Emotionless. It was interrupted by Kelly who ran to Nathan’s side and fell to her knees, screaming wretchedly. 

“Simon, quick, _do_ something! No, no, no, not like this! Don’t let him die like this!”

She held Nathan’s twitching body, but he was bleeding out much too fast, his limbs slowly stilling, even as Kelly pressed her palm to the gash in his throat in a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding. Tears were escaping Nathan’s panicked eyes while the blood poured from his mouth and nostrils, blocking his airways. Finally, his eyes fluttered and glazed over, becoming expressionless and dull, eventually unseeing. As he died, Simon crumbled and fell down next to Kelly, barely believing, barely convinced that any of this was real. His head throbbed and caused the room to spin, and caused him to question the reality in which only Kelly’s weeping kept him grounded.

*

For a while, it was like time had ceased to exist. Nothing was said, processed or fully understood. Nothing was forgiven. By the time Kelly spoke, Simon felt so hopelessly lost, he didn't know if it had been ten minutes or an hour.

“We need to get rid of the body.”

Her voice was all hollow and tragic. Simon’s head turned with surprise at her suggestion. He’d momentarily forgotten about Dixon. 

“Not Nathan,” she added, rolling her eyes at him sadly. “Him. The rapist bastard. We need to dump his body somewhere, don’t we?”

Simon nodded simply, though he wasn’t feeling particularly prudent. He didn’t think he had it in him to really care what happened with the body. He wondered if they were going to tell Curtis and Alisha about this. He wouldn’t be surprised if Kelly never wanted to speak about it again. For her, it was different. Blood and gore deeply affected her, in ways it could never affect Simon. Besides, even if it wasn’t the first time she’d watched Nathan die, it was the first time she’d experienced his murder. (Not murder. **Slaughter.** ) Simon thought she was probably so traumatised she’d never look at Nathan the same way.

“So,” he uttered, sighing as he got up from the floor. “Where do we dump him? We should get rid of the evidence before dawn.”

He glanced bashfully at the bedsheet they’d used out of respect to cover Nathan’s face and body. Kelly hadn’t wanted to say, but Simon could tell she felt haunted by his eyes, regretted looking into them as he’d died. She didn’t want to recall what they’d looked like, not if she could avoid it. He wondered if they would have time to clean him up this time. They would have to deal with Dixon first. _His_ body wasn’t going to miraculously sort itself out.

Kelly didn’t answer his question. She remained hunched over the railing, turning her back on Simon and the dead bodies. 

“Kel?” Her silence had him immediately worried. Carefully he approached her, politely pretending not to notice the way she wiped at her eyes and rubbed her wet mascara all over her fingers. “What’s wrong?”

She briefly looked behind her shoulder and he saw the dark smears around her eyes.

“I walked out on him,” she whispered faintly, distressed. “I called him a wanker. I thought he’d planned all this. I feel like the shittest friend in the world.”

Simon rested his eyes on her sadly. She didn’t even know the definition of being a shit friend. After all, she hadn’t spied on Nathan while he was intoxicated. She hadn’t stalked him when he’d been with that other boy. She hadn’t bitten and manipulated him, driving him to turn away, probably, the first guy who’d treated him nicely in a very long time. All because he’d felt selfish and jealous like a prick.

“You couldn’t have known. It’s not your fault,” Simon muttered darkly, but Kelly merely shook her head.

“He tried to warn us, didn’t he? Outside. I never even listened to him. I didn’t take him seriously. And now he’s been murdered. Again.”

He didn’t know what he could possibly say to comfort her. He was feeling pretty low and miserable himself. Like Kelly, he knew he’d failed him. Nathan should never have suffered another death, not on their watch. If Simon hadn’t acted like a complete fool all night, he would have noticed the warning signs. He wouldn’t have let it come to this. 

“He slashed his throat,” rasped Kelly painfully, hiding her face in her hands. “I - I’m never going to forgive myself for leaving him.”

“At least we… We stopped him from getting r-raped.” Simon hated himself for having nothing better to say. He hadn’t needed to remind them both how close Dixon had gotten. Dixon’s corpse was still naked from the waist down. Simon felt nauseous just thinking about the thug’s intentions. “Maybe Nathan won’t remember. He was drugged. It could all be wiped from his memory, I suppose.”

“Yeah well, it will never be wiped from mine.” Kelly eyed him solemnly. Then she let out a sniffle and shook her head, feeling evidently powerless. “Alright, let’s do this. It’s the least we can do now, innit? Let’s dump this piece of shit in the lake and watch him rot.”

*

They watched Dixon’s body sink to the bottom of the lake in complete silence. Simon had been the one gathering his corpse, his brains, popped-out eye and pieces of skull, and wrapped up all the parts in plastic bags while Kelly cleaned the floors. She’d asked him if it didn’t creep him out, touching a dead body. Moving it. Carrying it. Simon knew that it ought to, but it didn’t. The truth was, Dixon’s body didn’t make him feel anything. Nathan was the exception in that sense. _His_ body was the one he didn’t trust himself to handle, not in front of anyone else.

“Nathan knew who the man was,” reflected Kelly as they rowed out to the middle of the lake together. “It wasn’t just some random stranger attackin’ him, was it? It was deliberate.”

Simon had been reluctant to say anything. Kelly probably already sensed that he knew something she didn’t, however, she never forced him to actually admit to anything.

“Look, Simon, I know Nathan trusts you. I reckon he’s shared some things with you that I haven’t allowed him to share with me. You don’t have to tell me. I don’t need to find out what it is. I just - I want him to be safe. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

He supposed he did, and yet, he averted his eyes, feeling much too fragile to deal with the intensity of the topic. If Kelly would let him, he was more than happy to spare her any more information. Eventually, after another moment of silence, she gave him her only condition:

“If I can’t keep him safe, I’m hoping maybe you can.” She paused, the heavy rowing tiring her out fast. “Let’s face it. Nathan is going to make reckless decisions no matter how many times I warn him.”

“What happened tonight,” remarked Simon gloomily, “it wasn’t Nathan’s decision. It wasn’t his fault.”

“I know it wasn’t. All I’m saying is, if he lets you - whatever he gets himself into - will you be there to make sure he’s okay?”

“Be there?” Simon wasn’t sure he knew what had been implied. 

“You can be there in ways that I can’t.” Kelly stated simply. “All I can do is read his thoughts although he filters his mind around me.” When Simon still wasn’t sure what specifically she was asking him to do, she added: “Look, if it makes things easier, he doesn’t even have to know that you’re watching over him.”

Watching over him?

“Wait. Are you asking me to spy on him?”

Baffled, Simon stopped rowing for a moment. The idea alone was making him feel anxious. Anxious because it was the perfect alibi, a most convenient excuse for him to satisfy his curiosity and infatuation, his craving, his desperate need to be part of every one of Nathan’s demises. Although, after tonight, he wondered if he’d ever again take pleasure in his dying and succumbing. Any stimulation he’d ever felt watching Nathan’s lifeless beauty, any intimacy he’d savoured protecting and monopolising his remains, it had all been ruined by tonight’s turn of events. He’d love more than anything to be able to erase it all from his mind. Nathan’s power had seemed like a wonderful gift until Dixon had corrupted it and turned into something harrowing and cruel. Simon no longer wished to have anything to gain from observing Nathan’s ruin. No matter how he looked at it, he couldn’t justify the feeling of thrill. 

Kelly had no idea what she was asking of him. 

“Simon,” she uttered pressingly, detecting his disapproval, “you were given your power for a reason. To protect one of our own. Now is the time to use it.”

Dixon’s corpse had given a big splash as they’d thrown him overboard. Kelly had spit into the dark water and had made one final gesture by flipping off the body, resentfully telling him to burn in hell. Simon had remained silent and withdrawn. Not out of respect for the deceased. It was just that the only thing truly occupying his mind was Nathan. Nathan that could be waking up any moment now, alone. He didn’t want him to think they’d abandoned him.

“We should hurry back. Before anyone sees us out here,” Simon suggested all logically and sensibly.

_Before I miss the moment Nathan will blink his eyes open and look up at me._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> Part 4 will be dealing with the aftermath of the attack, I am dealing with a lot of stress right now and will be moving flats in the next few weeks, but I will upload as soon as I'm able. :)


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